


Melding

by Marley_Millions



Category: Trigun
Genre: Anxiety, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bitterness, Depression, F/M, First Time, Interpretation, Isolation, Loneliness, Manga, My First Smut, Resolved Sexual Tension, Science, Science Experiments, Separation Anxiety, Separations, Sexual Content, Timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marley_Millions/pseuds/Marley_Millions
Summary: After pondering on Knives’ behavior toward the angels in Trigun Maximum, I wrote this as a possible interpretation of how he discovered melding/fusing years before building the ark.Call this an experimental piece...
Relationships: Millions Knives/Plant Angel
Kudos: 14





	Melding

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Trigun... Obviously...

Although humans had been oppressing the angels for the past hundred years, many were still resistant to Knives’ methods. His main objective in life was to liberate them, regardless of human casualties. The independent had assumed for some time that the angels simply didn’t know any better before exploring how to effectively communicate with them, but many had understood their circumstances and chose to provide the vermin with their necessities. 

However, humans had always been driven by greed. 

Knives continued to wander particular regions of the planet, and his latest findings had him infiltrate a neglected SEEDS ship hundreds of miles from expanding human civilizations. Even after exterminating the human garbage from one village, another would spawn somewhere. 

Roaches. 

He settled on the ship for some time now. He often found himself immersed in the files and other programs that had survived the Big Fall, and whenever he uncovered something he couldn’t disregard, he studied and secured a copy of it for future reference. He rarely sojourned in one ship for more than a few months, but he remained for longer in this particular one. 

All because of the unique Plant angel. 

The last thing Knives wanted was to be alone, but he had to distance himself from Vash. His little brother had been a liability for far too long. Knives was ashamed to allow humans to drain his family for decades, but there wasn’t much he or Vash could’ve done. He was still striving to comprehend the abilities of an independent Plant, so he couldn’t protect his kind for decades. Additionally, his body wasn’t mature enough to manifest feathers for years; he was apparently still young for a Plant, although he had existed for two human life expectancies.

Furthermore, the last thing Knives expected was to experience sexual urges. 

His species was new and it seemed impossible to completely understand his physiology. He compared dependent Plant bodies to his own, but everything was distinctive to an extent. First, he was a male while the other angels displayed feminine traits. The angels supposedly only reproduced asexually, but Knives had speculated that the consequences of the Big Fall had stressed and traumatized the angels to the point that asexual reproduction was now nearly impossible given the planet’s conditions. 

Two Plant angels powered the ship, and one of them preferred to avoid Knives’ presence. He didn’t intrude on her space in one of the sections of the ship, but the other angel was welcoming, soothing, warm, and extraordinary. Knives spent most of his time with her when he wasn’t collecting information or training himself. 

No matter how long he remained in her company, Knives knew the emptiness he felt as a result of leaving Vash could never be filled by anyone else. He had mutilated his twin, had left him to bleed out similarly to a butchered pig, and had deserted him. It had occurred twenty years ago, but whenever the pain from those distant memories ached, the angel offered soothing songs and affection to combat against such images. 

What if he was now solely responsible for continuing his species? Were he and Vash the only ones? Had other angels across the universe—out of his reach—gave birth to others who were experimented on? Tortured? 

Knives had to act. His sisters were dying. Not a day passed when he didn’t feel the mental tug of a distant angel weeping from pain. However, there were others who expressed gratitude to humans as well...

Knives knew humans were capable of kindness—he wasn’t an idiot like his brother, accepting everyone was or had the potential to be a saint. Stating that every human was irredeemable—comparable to those who had lacerated Tessla—was foolish. Probability. There were *good* humans, but they were outnumbered by the majority.

Sacrifice was needed for change. The angels had paid it. Vash had to pay and potentially would again. Even Knives himself had to pay.

He had to destroy his innocence to do what was right. 

Knives sat in a chair with over a dozen monitors before him, but he directed his attention on one. He felt filthy, appalled at himself for reading such material about human mating rituals, but he had to. As much as he loathed and often disregarded the truth, he shared many biological similarities to a human male. He needed to know or perhaps compare to gain knowledge for what he intended to do. It was one of many articles he had read, and one was enough, but he knew relying on one source could potentially be problematic. 

Knives knew he and his dependent sisters were genetically comparable, but the subtle differences were what concerned him. Perhaps he and an angel couldn’t breed. Despite referring to his family as sisters or brethren, most were genetically dissimilar to some extent. At that moment, Knives glanced at the information he gathered about the Plant angel he often visited, who was eager to procreate with him. 

She didn’t need a lot of convincing. Knives had concluded that his body was sexually mature now, which urged him to declare that sexual reproduction with an angel could potentially be the next stage of his species' evolution. He told the angel this, withholding nothing from her. 

Her reasoning? It was because she didn’t want to see him alone anymore. 

The mental tug was enough to return Knives to his senses. His very form radiated confidence as he made his way to the angel. He began pulling his arms from the SEEDS uniform jacket, which left him wearing a black turtleneck underneath. He folded and carried it to the section of the ship where the angel giggled and offered soothing words in an endeavor to calm him. 

After ascending a short staircase to an elevated platform, Knives offered the angel a genuine smile. He stood, broad shoulders squared toward her floating appearance, arms still crossed, and eyes softer than ever before. He then reached for the glass, an action he had performed hundreds of times before, and pressed his palms against the glossy surface. It was hot, burning his skin, but when the angel floated down to mirror his position, she absorbed the heat and left a therapeutic warmth. He locked his eyes and gently leaned his forehead to avoid colliding into the glass. His smile broadened once the angel did the same, feathers casting shadows from the lights above that beamed through the bulb. 

Suddenly, Knives almost severed their connection entirely when the angel sent explicit images of what they could possibly do together. Some of the images were unusually accurate, and when Knives asked how she envisioned such arousing scenes, the angel answered that one of the crew members aboard the ship had been lonely before the crash. 

Of course, a human had broadcasted his primitive desires. Even though Knives was aboard the mothership, the other ships had their own maintenance crew in case something malfunctioned. 

Knives had made sure others couldn’t prevent the Big Fall from transpiring.

He didn’t expect Rem to...

The independent purposely avoided admitting to the effect the graphic images had on his person, but the angel was persistent even after he was fully stimulated. Before he could question her motives, a familiar prickling sensation settled at his digits, throbbing and radiating heat before it edged to his gate. Knives chuckled at the angel’s determined nature, and when he cracked open an eye to see her for himself, he laughed. He then shut his eyes and focused, smiling once again. Her energy mingled with the power radiating from his own gate, and the heat began inching toward his forearm to his shoulders. The energy began descending his body, heating his chest before trailing down his abdomen and… 

Insecurity struck him. He rarely ever experienced this emotion, but whenever he had, it was for a valid reason. As his groin now felt constricted due to his garments, he questioned his ability to entertain the angel. He had murdered so many, but some of the others still respected him and offered forgiveness. At times, Knives thought it was more than what he deserved. Perhaps it was. May—

Knives snapped open his eyes when the angel telepathically shouted at him. With one hand yanked from the bulb, the other nearly copied the action of its twin before she controlled the situation. She strengthened the link between them and advised he should make his way to the upper platform to enter the bulb. Once she made sure his hardened organ was pulsating with need, she teasingly served the connection and impersonated his previous demeanor, arms crossed with a brooding expression. 

She was technically older than him, so why was she just as juvenile as his brother? 

Knives arrogantly made his way to the other staircase to reach the upper level. He restrained himself while ascending the stairs, but a primitive urge wanted nothing more than to rush toward the bulb’s entrance. He worked a hand through his hair, and when he felt his fingers against his scalp, he noticed the evidence of his fear as they quivered. He could do this. It was the *how* that concerned him—the outcomes. 

He had no idea how long it would take, if successful, for an independent or dependent Plant to be born. How long was he willing to wait? He could discipline his body in the meantime while critiquing the ship’s stored information. Nothing would’ve given him the answers to his predicament. The possibility of raising Plant angels to support in his cause was unquestionably something he couldn’t dismiss. If he could continue his species, he’d do it. 

The angel whispered to him again as he neared the platform to reach the top of the bulb. Humans could enter it, but they’d potentially harm the Plant or suffer from radiation poisoning. For Knives, his concerns centered on keeping his clothes dry. He peered to his left and watched feathers block his view from the angel’s exposed form. When he averted his attention from her, she curled into a ball and anticipated for his company. 

She wouldn’t have to wait much longer. 

Knives began discarding the rest of his clothes, folding them in a pile. Now, he stretched, reaching for the ceiling as muscles contorted and flexed to expose the physique he had trained diligently for years to achieve perfection. After cracking his joints, he knelt down to inspect the various knobs, levers, and other means humans constructed to lock away the angels. They were complex handles beside the cables that connected her to the ship, and once he pulled the final one, a brief gust of compressed air, cold and an invasive contrast to the warmth from the bulb, sent chills down his torso. 

Sometimes the angels filled their enclosure with a fluid. The liquid itself was harmless, and it was an evolutionary precaution to tranquilize themselves under stresses, but for him, she filled her bulb with the tranquilizing-like substance. Knives never had to breathe other than before speaking, so fretting about inhaling was pointless. He wasn’t human after all. 

Knives submerged his legs while sitting at the edge of the entrance. He heaved a breath and sighed, slow, and measured. The angel wasn’t rushing him; she had nothing better to do than converse with him and sleep either way. His toes twitched at the tickling sensation of her feathers flowing throughout the bulb, her thin tendrils gradually spiraling in anticipation, and her delicate voice within him were all inviting. He steadied himself into the bulb, gripping tightly onto the edge of the entrance as his body slipped into the warm liquid. Once his head was submerged, his grip slackened while the rest of his body settled toward the bottom. He reached out to the green core of the bulb and explored the delicate shell of the metaphorical yolk as if its inhabitant had threaded a silk cocoon. Following her feathers was the Plant angel herself, who uncurled from a fetal position and supplied a soft smile. 

Knives offered one of his own, feeling his cheeks suddenly ache during the action. For a moment, the stiffness of his mouth occupied him. Had he gone so long without smiling? How long? Had it been years before this day? Months? Weeks? Never? No, he had smiled as a child—laughed after the Big Fall. Despite their disputes, he and Vash sometimes had shared a tender moment or two. 

While still contemplating, Knives absently reached for the broadest feather that obstructed his view from the angel. His fingers parted the soft vane of her feather, then he pressed its shaft. His hand explored as far down as it could reach, and when he felt creamlike skin, he started, propelling himself to the curve of the bulb behind him. She had quietly neared him while he was lost in thought. 

He looked down at his large hand, clenching it into a fist, and watched his veins rise beneath his skin. He counted the creases on his palm, one, two, three, four—He would never comprehend how many he had killed… Plant angels similarly to the one offering undeserved compassion. His sins were too heavy. Right there and then, the words on his tongue, his commitment to admitting his sins toward his kind dissipated. He couldn’t face that. Not yet. 

She was getting impatient with him. He couldn’t help it, though. 

Startled, he squeezed his eyes shut at the light caress against his cheek. He reluctantly opened them to lose himself in the angel’s pair. When she tenderly cupped his other cheek, he felt the building rage cool as she extracted the emotion from him, dousing the flame with understanding and acceptance. 

One of her hands dropped to his shoulder, carefully tightening her hold over his collabone. He stiffened at the contact. She then hugged his forearm, wanting him to swim further away from the glass toward the center. She then freed him, and even though the liquid was heated, he felt cold once she left him. Without glancing away from her, Knives propelled himself off the glass and hovered across the bulb.

For decades, he and Vash had endured and depended on each other while observing humans plant their roots and raise cities after innumerable battles and wars for dominance over Plants and lost technology alike. He and Vash hadn’t reached that *hormonal* stage in life similar to a human adolescent, so Knives had never thought about copulating with an angel.

The independent kept his arms awkwardly to himself, regarding the angel tentatively, and when she neared, inches separating them, he looked away. Perhaps he and Vash would always be the only ones...

Before he was consumed by his despair, the angel nudged him mentally before placing her hand on his jaw. Before he could send her a message, she pulled him to her body, binding her arms around his neck and nuzzling against his forehead. Knives remained stiff as he observed her feathers wrap around him, encasing him, but he didn’t feel trapped. The angel’s lean body, curved and ardent, pressed against him, her taut breasts and hardened nipples wanting contact. 

If her body was responding this way in his presence, then maybe—*maybe* it was possible to propagate. 

Knives closed his eyes and—losing control—allowed her to guide him in whatever position she desired. Right now, all she wanted was for him to complete the lover’s embrace, and in response, he only snaked his arms around her. Hesitantly, of course. He still wasn’t used to this. He could read everything about their physiology, their DNA, and whatever other information he could recover, but Knives couldn't ever prepare for this. He just had to do it and see. 

He’d lose himself—at least for now. There weren’t any humans nearby or even his brother. He was alone, but not entirely. Still… 

With a gasp, he returned to reality, sensing light caresses against his chest, the angel’s mouth nipping his neck. Her sharp fangs nearly pierced his flesh, surprisingly irresistible. He felt soft feathers and hairs against his waist as she tightened her thighs around him. He bound his arms together behind her and squeezed for reassurance. 

This was happening. He wasn’t alone.

Knives began fondling her, cupping her breast, dubiously at first. His groin was heated, throbbing, and craving for fulfillment along with the angel. The whole experience lulled Knives into a false sense of security—a needed distraction from wandering the planet. His pessimistic emotions had bundled together into ancient knots the Plant angel massaged away. He dragged his hands to her hips, digging his fingertips into her while his lips—inexperienced but determined—pressed against hers. 

He reassured her that he wasn’t rushing, but asked if she was ready—if she was willing to accept him in *this* way. He pulled her toward his chest, pressing her against him. He froze as her head gently bobbed to answer him while she left teasing kisses over his neck. 

Considerately parting her legs around him, Knives felt between her thighs without glancing around the area, anxious that the angel would leave him if he released her for a moment. She must have sensed his alarm since she raised her head and left a ghost of a kiss on his lips. She lowered her arm, and Knives jumped at the feel of her fingers gripping him. He glanced down at last, then at her feathers, her scalp again and watched the veins in his arms rise as he further tightened his limbs around her. Even during *this* moment, his memories attacked him, and before he injured the angel, he slackened his suffocating embrace for her comfort. 

He felt her guiding him inside of her, and once the tip entered, he grunted as more of himself thrust into the wet heat. He marveled at how much hotter it was within her compared to their surroundings. He parted his fingers while elevating the back of her head and his other hand continued to massage her breast, grazing fingers against a nipple. After a while, it became an uncomfortable position for him. He reached for her rear, lifting it to his crotch at a more satisfying angle. He slowly, rhythmically rocked his hips while his entire shaft entered her. He couldn’t help but mark her neck with his teeth, offering apologies for drawing blood as he licked the wound that healed in a matter of seconds.

Using his broad shoulders as leverage, she bounced over him, and he ran his inquisitive hands to her thighs, digging his nails into them. He tipped his head back, giving the angel full advantage over his neck as he swallowed. They continued to float and lose a sense of balance as gravity became meaningless. The weightless characteristics reminded him of the antigravity chambers in the SEEDS ship... 

He was nearing his edge, and he protested it to make the moment last—forever if possible. He felt the angel’s muscles harden, tightening their hold on him as he continued pounding into her. Before he knew it, his hands pushed her against the glass as he frantically thrust into her. He yanked her into his chest, her head resting on its side as he passionately buckled inside of her, shuddering and spilling himself. His thrust slowed, leisurely pumping into her for a few final times and he nearly choked on the urge to pant as the orgasm passed and left him fatigued. He placed a faint kiss on her forehead and wrapped his arms around her waist. To his relief, she was reluctant to part as well. 

They continued to float together. Minutes turned to hours, and the twin suns began setting. They were secured in a lover’s embrace, her feathers tickling his skin, his hands affectionately gliding across her body. He released a protesting noise once she began to free herself, but she reassured him that he wouldn’t be left alone. 

The day was aging, and she wanted to sleep. Knives brushed long hairs from her eyes, nodding in acceptance. Before he prepared to swim to the entrance, she seized his wrist. His brows furrowed at her question, and he turned to face the green sphere in the middle of the bulb, kept in place by a metallic claw. She pulled him, and he allowed her to escort him into her chamber. He had never entered one, and when he tucked his body in, darkness soon enveloped them once she closed the opening. It was pitch black, darker than a moonless night wandering the desert during certain times of the months. He didn’t mind. The angel didn’t. Knives found himself being lulled to sleep as the angel began humming.

Knives assumed he’d only mate with the angel a few times and analyze the data, recalibrate the machines so her energy output would decrease significantly, and reluctantly research how to raise a human child, knowing his potential kin would be far from vermin. 

He was wrong. It wasn’t just one time. In fact, it was usually once or twice a day. 

Knives remained in the ship longer than expected. Two years would eventually pass since he had first arrived, and one was spent monitoring the possibly pregnant angel. 

It didn’t take long before Knives wallowed in despair at the fact that the angel couldn’t reproduce. It was expected, but Knives had trusted his heart rather than logic—hoped for reassuring results—which he regretted immeasurably. He one day nearly destroyed the whole computer with his scythe blades before the angel pleaded with him to visit her. How could he? Nothing would ever change. He and his brother were the only ones. 

Knives eventually entered the bulb, and the angel’s fingers wandered across his body, dipping into the creases of his muscular physique. He allowed her to do whatever she desired while he seemed to stare into oblivion—once again in deep thought. He had spent so long on the ship and for what? Humans were safe if he remained. Humans continued to drain his family, disregarding the fact that sentient, caring beings resided in the bulbs. Oh, he knew—knew Plant engineers and experts alike acknowledged their existence, unlike the majority of the populace, yet they still had the audacity to mistreat the Plants! Beings that couldn’t communicate through human standards, like animals on Earth and even the abused toma species and everything around them was used for humans’ convenience. It sickened him! 

Knives was assaulting the angel. His advances weren’t as gentle compared to moments ago. They were dominating, harsher, as he allowed his anger to control him, to release his tension on the innocent Plant angel. His fingers once locked together with the angel’s hands now clamped onto her wrists, forcing her arms behind her. 

She yelled at him, and once he registered his actions, he forced himself away to the opposite side of the bulb. The anger was all too familiar. He had felt it when his brother shot his shoulder. He felt it now. The shame. He had hurt Vash out of anger. How dare his brother shoot him! After spending decades together, protecting each other, being there for one another, his sibling abandoned him, and in turn Knives had done the same—worse even. Eventually, his brother would understand human brutality and suffer for preferring them over him. Let the fool suffer from human garbage! Now that he was positive that he and Vash would be the only independents, he—

The Plant angel slipped her arms underneath his and hooked them around his shoulders, drawing him toward her. She began tugging at his emotions, but he didn’t want her to. He resisted her, pushing her away, reminding her of the hatred he had just unleashed. She recognized his pain and was determined to release him from its hold. Knives’ shoulders slumped as he watched feathers circle him. Unlike their first few times, Knives now allowed his own quills to loop, coil, and coexist with her lighter blue feathers, curved and soft while his own looked jagged, angled, and merciless. 

He accepted her comfort. It was a needed distraction—necessary. 

Forgiveness… Again. 

He was even gentler after that day toward her. He wanted nothing more than to forget, but he knew it was doomed to end. He had to continue his life’s mission. 

One day, he blessed her with his company. Her back pressed against his chest, and his arms looped around her waist. They drifted in that position for hours. His hands softly rubbed against her thighs, circular motions slightly shifting to other areas of bare flesh. At last, when he determined enough time had passed, he tucked his face into her neck, leaving a slow kiss.

Determined now, he began telling her what needed to be done for their species and how he couldn’t lose himself in pleasure to neglect his purpose. He had spent too much time with her already. He traced down her collar bone with kisses before sliding his chin over her shoulder, sighing before losing consciousness to regain his energy. 

Whenever he awakened, he had always found himself embraced by the angel in her green sphere, but something wasn’t right. It felt right, but it wasn’t. Not yet. 

The world was a blur. It felt numb, something throbbed against him, and Knives’ eyes fluttered open. Feathers, sharp and smooth, tangled with each other, as if he was trapped in some ball of yarn with the… angel? 

Knives attempted to raise his left arm to his eyes, but something pulled it down. It was heavier than he remembered. The angel was with him, her limbs surrounded his arm, and a melodious voice muttered to him that his body was now ready to accept hers. He couldn’t register what was happening. He pressed his right palm over his eyes, rubbing the fatigue away from what must have been a restless sleep. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he reached out for the angel, determined to caress her form before vacating the bulb for the day. Perhaps forever. He had to leave. 

His hands hooked onto a thigh at such an awkward angle. His eyes traveled up the angel’s legs that were pressed against his right arm. The round feathers ticking his face were familiar, no doubt from the angel, but Knives realized that those feathers now sprouted from his arm. His feathers were sharp. Why would he summon such delicate quills? He didn’t know he could. 

The angel continued her peaceful hums, almost forcing him to sleep once again. He was stubborn, though. He ran his fingertips across her thigh, lazy and teasing strokes, lighter than feathers even. He then traced the form of her leg to her upper half, but he narrowed his eyes when he felt his arm. It was lumpy, warm, and wider than…

Knives shoved himself to the glass, escape was impossible unless he reached for the bulb opening above him. Now, he panicked at the sight of his sister’s dismembered body embedded within him, as if fused into his arm. Most of her body was lost within his limb while her shoulders and head perturbed from his shoulder—a dismembered bust on display beside his ear.

Knives demanded the angel to separate. He didn’t want this! He was almost clueless as to what an independent Plant such as himself was capable of, but he didn’t wish to consume his sisters! He wasn’t a human! Her gate accompanied his own, giving power to his heated organ while it felt like she was being drained. 

Eventually, the shock of the situation passed and Knives focused his efforts on rational thought. He needed information. He began questioning the conscious angel about what transpired in his sleep. Apparently, the angel was unsure if independent Plants could also meld, and when Knives invited her to elaborate, she mentioned how the oldest of their sisters passed down stories from Earth that they could fuse together; it took a while for it to happen to him because he wasn’t physically mature enough when he first visited her.

Knives had never heard of such a thing. Nothing in the databases ever hinted at such a phenomenon. Not even the other angels had mentioned it. 

Melding. 

After that day, Knives focused his testing on the phenomenon he deemed as melding after separating from the Plant angel without complications. He remained for a year after he melded, testing hypothesis after hypothesis until he discovered possible answers to some of his questions. He was astonished to discover he could meld with technology as well. He desperately wondered if he could absorb other angels, but refrained from trying. Despite creating weapons, feeling the flow of additional energy, and experiencing the sensations of completeness while being so close to an angel, he felt strange… as if his gate was pulling on the angel’s energy—similarly to a human depleting an angel dry.

A human…

If he decided to absorb an angel, he’d have to rely on another’s power to accomplish his life’s goal for him. His sisters were already strained, and Knives was disgusted that he had even considered using his family in such a manner. 

He’d be taking them again. He had already taken so many of his kind. 

He decided to rely on his own powers. Perhaps he’d plan something for melding if he couldn’t liberate his species alone—a backup plan of sorts. 

Knives pressed his palms and forehead against his sister’s prison. She mirrored his pose, smiling as they began their goodbyes and Knives explained in excruciating details on how he reprogrammed the ship to defend his sisters and the equipment from human garbage. His sisters voiced their displeasure when their brother spoke of the humans in such a manner, but Knives didn’t attempt to retort. 

They’d learn soon enough. 

Knives swung a traveling pack over his shoulders and calculated the number of rations needed to venture toward his next destination where an angel often wept. Some of his family members had the habit of hiding certain critical pieces of information regarding their mistreatment at the hands of filth, and many knew Knives wasn’t always tolerant toward humans. 

Eventually, Knives’ family would understand. Vash would understand. He would make sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is also the first... erotic story/piece I've ever written. It was fun as hell to write since I had to determine how a younger Knives would behave with all of his sciencetificness and potential young awkward self. Timeline is about twenty years after he and Vash split, so who damn knows what he did after all these years.


End file.
